Right Now
by KisstheRain14
Summary: A year and a half after the war, he left. Left his family, his friends, and left her. Now that he's back, Clary finds herself wondering if it was better when he was gone, or if his return is simply too much to handle. /Discontinued with summary/
1. I Think I Remember Those Eyes

**I'm baaaack :D I missed you guys!**

**Don't expect this to be great; I'm still a little rusty. I'm pretty sure that if I'd been in my beta's place, I would've chucked my laptop at the wall after reading my rough draft. Thanks for being such an awesome person (and BETA), Nixie. :D Spell check, man. It's a new fad.**

**OMG, KTR14 is writing a NON-AU, MULTI-CHAPTER FIC FOR MI? Whaaaat? **

**... Uh, yeah. It's finally happened. ;] I hope you like it.**

* * *

The tension was just about to kill Clary.

Sure, there was always a little anticipation in the air when they went to Pandemonium. They almost always went to make a kill, or to stake out the area for possible demons. But today felt different, as if a bubble was slowly swelling in her chest, refusing to pop and just sort of sitting there. And by then, the bubble was making it hard to breathe and she was getting frustrated. It was already to the point where the recoil would hurt if it popped. Clary almost felt let down by the fact that they were there to have fun instead of kill tonight - she needed to relieve some of this stress.

Isabelle and Simon were already on the dance floor - Isabelle going all out, Simon keeping it careful. Clary had to smile at this perfect representation of their relationship; Isabelle was always ready to bring it and move to the next level, but Simon was more steady, keeping his head level and becoming the anchor. It made for an imperfectly perfect relationship.

Alec and Magnus had disappeared somewhere as well, probably up into the balconies or into a booth. This left Clary all alone, sitting on a bar stool with a glass of Coke in her hands and the irritating sensation of having steel bands wrapped around her chest. (Figuratively. She wasn't that big of an idiot.) She tried to take deep breaths and winced when she met resistance. Finally deciding to gulp down the rest of the soda, she put the cup down and pushed onto the dance floor. The mass of gyrating bodies keeping time with the heavy bass beat made her own hips move and feet carry her farther into the hypnotic crowd. She made sure to steer clear of Simon and Isabelle though, since she had no desire to see them making out.

Her wandering eyes lit on a pair of thin, worn hands resting on curvy, pale hips. She felt her heart beat a little faster than before and closed her eyes. God, how many boys in the world had tapering fingers and rough calluses like those? They could have been the hands of a piano player and fellow Shadowhunter at the same time. That was a _special_ combination. She'd only seen a pair of hands like that once before in her lifetime.

Her heart spluttered and skipped a beat as the bubble protested in her chest. She opened her eyes again just in time to see Izzy pass by her. She grabbed the older girl's arm, grinning when Izzy looked down at her with flushed cheeks.

"Having fun?" she teased gently.

"Mm-hmm," Isabelle shot back, smiling as widely as she could. "So _much_ fun."

Clary wrinkled her nose. "Ew. Sorry I asked."

Isabelle's laugh was loud enough to hear over the music. "What about you? Why are you alone?"

Clary shrugged, attitude nonchalant although the bubble in her chest was really making it hard to show any other emotion besides annoyance. "I don't need anyone yet."

" 'Yet' being the operative word," Izzy teased in turn.

Clary mock-scowled and let go of the other girl's arm. "Go away," she commanded, grinning as Izzy laughingly obeyed.

The bubble tightened as soon as Isabelle was out of sight, turning her fake frown into a real one. "Go away," she muttered again before realizing with some embarrassment that she was talking to an imaginary force inside herself. She sighed and continued to dance, noting with some satisfaction that the music had changed to a faster tempo. Now she could keep her body and mind occupied.

She suddenly felt a strong gaze push at her back and she turned around, eyes too slow to catch anything but a wiry, muscled arm. She pressed her lips together and toned down on the dancing, not in the mood to mess around with some random guy in a club. It wasn't really working though, since as soon as she looked away, the gaze returned. This guy had to learn how to be subtle. Meanwhile, ignorance was probably the best policy. Just in case, she turned to look at him again. Nothing but a flash of a black tee. She sighed and faced the stage again, away from him, and felt the piercing gaze return.

Great.

She weaved through the crowd until she disappeared into the girls' bathroom and sighed in relief as the tension eased in her body. She contemplated hiding out in there for the rest of the night, and figured that going home would be just as effective. But she didn't want to leave just yet, since Izzy would probably murder her. It wasn't even eleven yet.

Some giggling girls were hogging the mirrors and eyed her derisively when she came close to wash her hands. She shot them a huge, fake smile and purposefully took a long time. She felt a spark of her old fiery attitude in the move, the attitude that she hadn't used in a _long_ time. She left after that and felt the heavy bubble return. It was getting really, really annoying.

It took her a few minutes to find Isabelle after that, and when she did, she dragged her away from Simon. Isabelle gave her a slightly dirty look, but then relaxed. "What's wrong?"

"This guy keeps looking at me, and everything's pissing me off today so I feel kind of miffed." Izzy snorted at her last word, but gave her a bit of advice.

"Just go out there and put yourself out there," she told Clary, shrugging. "It'll either intimidate him or your boldness will bring you two to a confrontation. Either way, you can get him to scram."

Clary bit her lip. "I don't know... I don't want to overdo it."

Isabelle shrugged again. "It's always worked for me, but I understand if you don't want to. Do you want to leave early?"

The fact that Izzy was sacrificing her club time, especially after advocating for tonight's night out so fiercely, gave Clary the push she needed. "No, it's okay. I'll put myself out there, screw him. He's not ruining my night. It's not a big deal." The bubble eased slightly with this outburst and Clary matched Izzy's grin. The redhead felt the spark ignited by the girls in the bathroom turn into a rebellious streak of fire.

"All right - tell me how it goes, okay?" Isabelle gave her a tight hug before they split up, Izzy returning to Simon and Clary heading a little closer to the stage. There were more people there, discouraging a confrontation, and she really wanted to get lost in the loud music. The bass line gave her a beat to follow and she set her body to it, making sure to send a clear message while keeping it clean.

She felt the same gaze on her and the steel bands around her chest abruptly tightened with the glance, making her falter for a split second. She ignored it and just closed her eyes, seeing nothing but a starburst of color on her eyelids and hearing nothing but the roar of music. Her mind slipped into that state where there was nothing but her dancing. It was a haze of notes, sweat, concentration and muscles moving in sync. She had hated putting herself out there before, but a lot of people had taught her to think otherwise. Her breaths came in short, energetic bursts. She was slipping into a blank mindset when three things happened, one right after the other.

First, a hand reached out and clasped her shoulder. Then, because of that touch, the bubble in her chest burst and sent shockwaves throughout her body. And because of the shock waves, she looked up. And that was when she saw a pair of golden eyes stare back down at her.

* * *

**AGH.**


	2. Chills in the Night

**Hey guys, thanks for all the positive remarks! I haven't answered any of your questions, but I think they'll pretty much all be answered in this chapter here. Just try to keep an open mind, yeah? Thanks :D**

**This is unbeta-ed, just BTW. Every mistake goes to me, not NixiexGrey.**

**If you're bored, check out my original novel on inkpop(dot)com! Yes, it's back up, but it's undergone a makeover. Its new title is _obscurity_, and a few things have changed. Hopefully you can find it, read it, like it and comment/pick! Thanks :D**

**Okay, blahblahblah, shut up. I'm done now. :] Enjoy.**

**P.S.: The lines that are italicized and in brackets are song lyrics. Kudos if you can name all the songs they're from. ;]**

* * *

The clock had just flipped to 11:07 PM when a knock sounded on her door. She heaved a deep breath and called, "Who is it?", too tired to get out of bed and turn on a light.

When awkward silence met her question, she knew.

_[I see it all now that you're gone]_

"I really don't want to talk to you. Like, at all. Go away before I find my seraph blades."

There was another short silence, then an abrupt jiggling sound followed by a click. Soft yellow light from the hall spilled onto her carpet, silhouetting the one person she really, really, really didn't want to see.

"Just a note," he drawled, "if you want to keep people out, use a Mark." He flipped his stele around lazily and jammed it back into his pocket.

She sat up quickly and hugged the blankets to her shoulders. "I live with people who respect my privacy," she responded shortly.

Jace flicked on the room light and was reclining comfortably in her desk chair by the time her eyes had adjusted. She honestly had no idea how to respond, so she just watched him fiddle with a loose string on his sleeve. The silence stretched on and on until he finally looked up, the thread dropping from his hand.

"I found him," he told her, voice low. His eyes suddenly burned with intensity, and she was struck again by how much he resembled an avenging angel. "I found Jonathan. I'd said he had survived, and he had. I found him."

Her brother. She turned away, again unsure of how to respond. He kept talking though, seemingly unable to stop.

"I found him in Russia, hiding under an alibi and fake looks in the local Institute. I thought I could flush him out, but I was too rash - he saw me and ran before I could move in. I had to track him again, and I got all the way to Venezuela with a forged passport. He was in a tiny hut in the middle of the rainforest. He ran again, tipped off by one of his spies. But I got him in Indonesia, Clary, I got him. I managed to corner him after weeks and weeks, and I - I got him for Max. I got him for Hodge, I got him for Mom and Father and Alec and Isabelle and - Angel, I just..." He broke off there, meeting Clary's gaze again. "I killed him. I plunged a blade straight through his heart. He's gone, Clary, forever."

His intense stare brought her own eyes back to his face, and she watched the conflicting emotions dance across his features as the electrically charged silence played out between them. She heard his words, registered them, even filed them away for later examination. But in this one moment, they were sliding off her like raindrops off a car's windshield. They weren't sinking in.

"I don't care," she told him evenly. And she didn't. She didn't care that it had taken him across the globe. She didn't care that Jonathan was gone, and with him the last threat to her and her loved ones. She didn't care that Jace was back, because to be honest, too many things had changed. She didn't care about anything but one last, unresolved issue.

_[Six feet under, screaming, but no one seems to hear a thing]_

"You don't _care?"_ Jace looked surprised."How can you not _care_ that lives were repaid, and that you can sleep safely now? How can you not care that Jonathan is gone, taking Valentine's last claim to the earth with him?" His voice was steadily rising now. "How can you not care that those sick, twisted experiments that Valentine conducted are gone? How can you not _care - "_

"Because you threw me away!" she shouted back at him, exploding. "Because you decided that you were good enough to wing it on your own, leaving me behind for four years - _four years -_ while you hunted down my brother, whom I had every right to hunt with you! You decided that you weren't going to listen to me, and that you just wanted to become the glorified hero again, alone and tragically unwanted like every other damn history textbook hero there is, and that there was no freaking way that you would even consider me coming along." Clary took a deep breath, hating the shuddering quality it had to it. "You decided to kill _my brother _by yourself without even consulting me, and you ran away after a year and a half of settling down. But the worst part is that I could feel that you weren't satisfied, and that you weren't happy with what you had, and that you wanted something else. You weren't happy with New York City and your family - you wanted to go hunt down my brother instead. We were both eighteen, both legally adults, but just because we're adults doesn't mean we can do whatever we want. Just because I'm an adult doesn't mean it didn't hurt."

_[Because when a heart breaks, no it don't break even]_

Jace was just sitting there looking shell-shocked, looking as if the whole world had decided to turn against him once again, and she hated him for it. He wasn't the only one hurt in this situation - he probably had it the best in the whole crowd. She hated him for his attitude, his laissez-faire thinking, his masochistic, self-burdening, unreliable, promise-breaking, untrustworthy, _horrible_ personality. She _hated_ him, and she was going to let him know it.

"I wake up that morning and find the whole Institute panicking, Izzy shaking my shoulders to get me awake and Alec tearing through the whole building looking for signs that you really didn't leave. Robert had a slip of paper in his hands that he kept reading and re-reading as Maryse cried on Max's bed, talking about how she'd lost one child to Jonathan already and that she couldn't lose another one. As soon as I woke up Izzy disappeared, muttering something about Simon's house and Magnus's tracking skills. And your note!" Clary considered smacking him across the face a few times, but contented herself with just getting up to pace about the room.

"Clary - "

"Shut. Up."

_[I know it makes no sense, but what else can I do?]_

"Your note - Angel, all it said was some crap about chasing Jonathan, and a sarcastic bit about not expecting you for dinner. _Sarcasm._ Really, Jace, what was so funny about the situation? Because we sure as _hell_ didn't find anything even remotely funny about the idiotic scheme you had decided on. And not only that, but you didn't even have the integrity to tell us to our faces, then leave after we said goodbye! God_dammit_, Jace, you know Izzy, Alec, Simon, Magnus and I would have insisted on going with you! You could have taken at least one of us along! We were sick with worry - Maryse literally came down with the flu, and Isabelle just couldn't stop crying! What was going through your mind?"

"Enough." Jace had stood up as well by that time, and his knuckles were white as he clutched the back of her chair. "I did what I had to do, and I wasn't going to take anyone along and endanger their lives."

"But it's okay if you endanger yours?" She threw her hands out in exasperation. "I don't understand how you are okay with hurting the rest of us by basically committing suicide, but aren't okay with the fact that we'd willingly go on a death mission with you to help and ensure that all of us came back alive!"

"Ensure?" he echoed. "Oh, of _course_, since every time Shadowhunters go out, they all come back."

"You know what I mean!" The anger was breaking out after four years being held back in a dam, making her voice go higher and crack with her frustration. She slammed a fist down on her bureau in an effort to release some of it. "You just ran off without telling us! How could we know if you'd survive, much less come back any time! We didn't know if you'd even return! You can't run off and shed every responsibility you had - "

"What, like walking the dog?"

_"Like us, Jace!"_ Her tears were hot and surprising as they fell. "I was _hurt_, and I was _scared._ Jace, you left us. You made us feel like we weren't important enough to be consulted, to be told, to be taken along. I was so, so _scared._"

"No, Clary - I did it because - you understand why I did it, don't you?"

_[Just gonna stand there and watch me burn]_

"I understand what you're telling me, but I don't understand how you could come to that conclusion! You're not the only one who's been in dangerous situations, and you're certainly not the only one who's qualified enough to take on Jonathan! I can't believe you thought that doing this would be okay! How did you think we'd _react?"_

"Definitely not like this!" he shot back. "I did this because I _love you all._"

She knew how hard it must have been for him to say those words, but she felt no sympathy for him. "You love us?" She gave a short, wholly unamused laugh. "Doesn't feel like it."

Silence.

"Clary..."

"God, Jace..." She felt her voice get thicker and shift into the now-familiar crying tone. "You just don't understand."

"No, I don't." He took a deep, audible breath and let it out, locking his fingers behind his head. "You know I love you. You know I loved you back then too."

She fought back the urge to laugh again. "I knew back then. But now..." She shrugged. "Now, I don't love you back. I physically, emotionally, mentally, just _can't_."

_[You were always hard to hold]_

* * *

"What else did you expect?" Alec was standing at the opposite end of the room, arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe. Jace could practically feel the animosity running off his form like water gushing down a cliffside. It hurt unexpectedly, especially since they could both feel that their close _parabati _bond was gone.

"I don't know... just not this. I thought you guys would understand."

"Don't get us wrong, it's a good mission. You know we would've agreed with you. But you didn't give us a chance to do anything. You just... left."

"I know, and I'm sorry - I wasn't thinking correctly. But I don't get why Clary is so _mad._" Jace felt like throwing something out the window. Maybe the clock that was ticking annoyingly in the background.

"Jace. Stop." Alec's eyes cut deep into his own. "Don't brush over this. Do you honestly know why you should be sorry - why we're angry with you?"

"I..."

"Put yourself in our shoes for a second, please." Alec was calm, soothing, even with everything at hand. "Imagine that, God forbid, Clary had just run off like that with nothing but a note in her place. How would you feel?"

Jace didn't want to do this, didn't want to undergo this touchy-feely therapist routine with Alec, didn't want to get emotional before understanding the dilemma in front of him. But Alec's gaze urged him gently, told him to wait a little and think. So he did.

"I'd be... angry." How could Clary dare to leave without asking him to come. "And unwanted." Would she leave him because she didn't want to travel with him, spend time with him? His brow furrowed as he threw himself into his imagination's grasp. "And hurt. And... scared."

"Scared for what?" Alec's voice was understanding, soft. There was no bitterness hidden away.

"Scared that she'd get hurt. Scared that she wouldn't come back. Scared for me, and the future."

Alec nodded. "I think you've found your answer."

* * *

"Are you sure that's him?"

"Positive, sir."

"You realize we have no room for mistakes."

"Yes, sir."

"If you're wrong, both our heads are going to roll."

"Yes, sir. I swear he is the one, sir."

"... Very well then. Have a team on standby."

"Yes, sir. Good night, sir."

"Yes, yes... good night, Stricklander."

* * *

**One mystery down, a few more to go.**

**Review?**

**P.S.: Yeah, my formspring account is back up. Same as always. Forget the URL? Check out my fanfiction author page: the link is right there.**


	3. Not a Princess Waiting in Her Tower

**Hey, thanks for all the reviews! They were great encouragement :] Again, this is going unbeta'd. My beta, the ever amazing NixiexGrey, finds herself being bombarded by life these days - and who can blame her? Anyway, all mistakes are entirely mine, not hers. **

**Just in case there's some confusion, here are the ages for this fic:**

**Clary and Isabelle: 22**

**Jace: 23**

**Alec and Ryan (you'll see): 24**

**Simon: eternally stuck at 16/17 (somewhere between there, although year-wise he's the same as Clary and the lot)**

* * *

"You've got to tell him." Isabelle's voice was uncharacteristically stern as she leaned toward Clary. "He can't _not_ know."

Clary avoided her eyes. "What to tell him first?" she wondered, half to herself. "That is, if I want to talk to him," she added in a weary voice. She'd been angry for almost a week now, and she was tired of it all.

"I hate the idiot myself, but you have pressing issues to, uh, discuss." Isabelle suddenly glanced down and inspected her nails under the table.

Clary sighed. "I know. I don't know where to start, though."

"I can't help you with this," Isabelle told her without looking up. Her tone was small, cautious, and Clary hated it. Hated the reason behind it, and hated the fact that it was all hitting her again. If he'd wanted to go away, why couldn't he have _stayed_ away?

She spread her small hands across the top of the waxy tabletop, absentmindedly circling the bottom of her coffee cup with her index fingers and thumbs. It was freezing outside, a blizzard having hit NYC a few days ago. Normally she would have been curled up somewhere warm with a few pillows and her sketchpad, but the atmosphere in the Institute had turned stifling and repressive lately. So she'd grabbed a willing Isabelle and a heavy coat before heading to Taki's. Isabelle had called Simon on the way and he was due to arrive any moment now. Her left side was cold from the chill emanating from the window, but her right side was toasty warm from the heating circulating the building. She shifted away from the window and took a long drink from her coffee as the bell above the front door jingled and a friendly face appeared.

"Simon!" Isabelle waved and he smiled quickly before heading over. He slid into the booth next to Isabelle and took a huge gulp from Clary's cup, ever-so-elegantly balancing a relationship and a friendship in his palms. Clary admired the way he was able to do that, and appreciated his effort. He really didn't have to be so careful all the time - she understood what a relationship entailed sometimes, and things between Izzy and Simon were strained enough as it was. There was the growing age gap to contend with, and Simon was still somewhat of a hotly-contested creature amongst the Downworlders, being a Daywalking vampire and all. Clary sincerely hoped that they'd make it through everything and emerge intact. _Some_one had to have a happy ending, right?

"So Clary." Simon gazed at her with the same intensity that Izzy had displayed only minutes ago. "What are you going to tell him, and what are you going to filter out?"

"I'm filtering out what I told you guys a month after he left," Clary said immediately, voice soft. "I think it was a mistake to tell anyone, no offense."

Izzy blinked. "You can't leave _that_ out," she hissed. "That's the most important part!"

"Well, suck it up. I'm not telling him anything about that," Clary shot back. "And I know that you two won't tell him either." Her tone left no room for discussion.

"What about Ryan?" Simon asked calmly, eyes never wavering.

Clary hesitated, as did Isabelle. This was delicate. "I think... I think I'm going to have to tell him about Ryan."

"Yeah... on one hand, it's always fun to see Jace riled up, but on the other..." Simon shrugged. "I'll be there for you if you'd like, Clary."

"I'm not exactly planning this out," she muttered.

* * *

_Twelve hours earlier_

It was dark. It was rainy. And it was the perfect night for the hunt.

Jace stalked the Oni demon quickly and quietly as it slithered behind a Dumpster. His watch indicated that the time was nearing one in the morning, but he wasn't done yet. He'd already bagged three kills in the course of four hours, hoping that with the release of ichor and hellish souls, his anger and confusion would be released as well.

So far, it wasn't working.

His seraph blade was dimmed and poised in his fingers, its point neatly lined up with the heart of the demon. He heard the crunch of styrofoam and snow as it stepped across the overflowing trash in its way and continued on toward a sewer on the opposite end of the alleyway. Jace was going to make sure it never got there.

The blade flew almost effortlessly from his hand and struck the Oni straight through its slimy chest. It howled in rage and pain as it whipped around to glare at Jace. He smiled grimly as he felt the Fearless rune start to burn on his shoulder and he drew another blade from his belt, whispering "Zuriel". It lit up beautifully, blinding the Oni and illuminating the way for Jace. He struck the demon again, this time managing to finish it off in a spray of black and green. Both seraph blades sank into the dirty banks of snow, covered in ichor and flickering out.

As if set to an alarm, his cell phone started to vibrate again.

_Damn._ He knew he shouldn't have gotten that worldwide service. No, the problem didn't even extend that far. He wished he'd never given out his contact information. He considered getting a new number before running into the same dilemma as before: people would ask questions about the change. Questions were the last thing he needed right now.

Hoping against all odds, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and checked the number on the display.

"Drew Salinas calling."

_Ah, crap._ So it was her.

* * *

_Present time_

Her phone rang in the silence of her room, the soothing, familiar ringtone she'd had for over four years now managing to somewhat calm her frazzled nerves. She snatched up the cell and flipped it open, pressing it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Clary?"

She relaxed even further as his warm British accent filtered through to her, working even more potently than the ringtone. "Yes. Um yeah, hi."

Brian laughed. "You sound nervous."

"Not really," she said, a little defensive. "It's just... there are a couple of problems on the home front right now."

He made a small sympathetic noise. "Anything I can do to help?"

And this was precisely why she liked Ryan. Through everything, he was simply there. He didn't change, didn't waver. He was a constant in her busy, scary, _moving_ life. Sighing, she replied with a soft no. "Where are you?" she asked instead.

"At my university cafe. I'm going to go to Economics class in a few minutes, but I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing."

Clary gave a small laugh. "I'm not sick, Ryan. Everything's fine."

"Good. I'll see you for dinner tonight?"

"Um... maybe. I'm sorry, I know we planned this in advance, but I don't know if I can leave home tonight. Things are pretty bad." Clary really was sorry - it would have been so nice to get away and just be with Ryan for a few hours, suspended above responsibility and time. "I'll call you before five, okay?"

"Sure." Angel, he was sweet. It was effortless for him to adjust to her plans, to accept that she was sometimes unavailable. It made her feel... bad. But in a sort-of good way, since she knew that he really did understand. Their relationship was easy, as natural as breathing air.

_Unlike the passion you had with Jace,_ her mind whispered quietly. She pushed that thought away - passion about the wrong thing was equivalent to stabbing a seraph blade into your own heart. It was fatal, and best avoided.

"I've got to go," he reminded her gently, accent softening for a moment. "I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

"Okay. See you."

"Soon, Clary." The line disconnected and she was left hearing nothing but the soft dial tone.

Well, the dial tone and a quiet scuff outside her door.

She placed her phone down and made her way over, yanking the door open. Jace was just standing there, not looking abashed in the least.

"Way to respect my privacy," she said dryly.

"I was going to knock, until I heard you talking."

"See, that's the moment you start walking away."

"Oh, but this is urgent." His smirk told her the very opposite. "Isabelle says that she'd like to cook the early dinner tonight, and I was wondering what you wanted to order from Taki's."

Clary scoffed. "Angel, you missed a lot. Everyone would rather eat Isabelle's cooking than Taki's, Jace. She's gotten extraordinarily good."

"Is that right?" He cocked an eyebrow. "And has the Devil finally installed an ice-skating rink?"

"If Dante is to be believed, then yes."

"Touché."

"What do you want, Jace?" she asked, cutting straight to the point. The smile slipped off his face.

"Do you really consider me to be that much of a nuisance?" he asked her, expression serious. "I mean, really. Canceling plans because of problems on the homefront?"

"You can't deny the fact that you're becoming a problem," she said. "You've been a problem ever since you got back."

His face was impassive. "How so?"

"You just are. Showing up again after such a long period of time, and then acting like nothing's wrong - you missed a lot, Jace. Like just right now, the cooking thing with Izzy. _Everyone_ knows that, except you. You can't act like nothing's wrong, like you didn't miss anything."

"So what are you all angry about - the fact that I left, or that I'm not up to date with everything that went on?"

"_Both_."

She half-expected him to ask her, then, what exactly she wanted him to do about it. She expected him to whip out the sarcastic tone, the half-sneer, the old protective armor that he'd always donned, even in front of her. But the thing about Jace was that he liked to surprise you - even after four years, she still remembered that much. So when he opened his mouth again, she wasn't ready.

"Who's Ryan?" His tone was conversational, light. She could still detect the terse undertone, however; sense the awkwardness and the forced nature of the inquiry. She took a deep breath, wishing that something or someone would distract them right now from the static starting to spark in the air. She bit her lip and watched as his eyes flicked down, registering the movement and marking it as a sign of nervousness, a sign of weakness. He was nothing if not a predator, and even more so now.

"Clary." He'd shifted closer to warning now, prodding her to answer before his patience snapped. "Who's Ryan?"

Her mind was racing, trying to come up with something to say that would deflect his confusion, push away his anger, bottle it up until a later time when they were both ready to deal with it. It was too _soon_; it had only been a week! It was too, too soon. Her eyes were wide, her heart beating, her fingers curling into fists. How was he elicting these responses from her? One would think that time would decrease the strength of his stares, the weight of his words. Nope.

"God, Clary..." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, amber eyes shutting and gold curls falling into his face. "Angel _Raziel_..."

"Oh, Jace." She didn't know what was worse: her weary voice, or the fact that he'd grasped it all on his own. "You didn't think I'd sit around and wait, did you?"

And then she brushed past him, walking very slowly down the hall and around the corner.

* * *

It was strange - even though he hadn't officially _trained_ in a gym for around four years now, the feel of his fists hitting the rough fabric of a punching bag felt as familiar as seeing his face in a mirror. Old habits died hard. His breath was steady and even as he went, his shoulders burning with the same-old, same-old pain of working out. The training room was almost exactly the same as when he'd left, making him feel like he'd been in here only yesterday. It was weird how a smelly, cluttered room could feel timeless, whereas the rest of the world emphasized the differences that each tick of the clock made.

The dusty, warm silence was broken when the door swung open and hit the wall behind it, making Jace look up in mild surprise to see Isabelle standing there. She didn't even deign to give him a glance, instead warming up on the mats in the corner. Jace kept working away at the punching bag, somewhat reluctant to enter the hostilities so early on.

When Izzy had finished, she dragged the mats to the middle of the room, setting them up in such a way that Jace immediately knew what she wanted. "I'm not going to spar you, Izzy," he said tiredly.

She didn't look up from her task. "I have some things to talk to you about, and I'd rather break your bones than some of the furniture."

That's when he knew that it was inevitable. He whipped the towel off his shoulders and sighed, stepping onto the squishy blue mats and taking up his usual ready stance. She straightened up and immediately launched a powerful high kick to his collarbone. He grabbed her ankle and twisted to the side, although he didn't push his advantage and let her slip away. There was no sound but their steps and soft breathing until Izzy finally spoke.

"Mom and Dad don't live here anymore. They're in Idris with Amatis."

"Why did they go?" Jace asked, acutely aware that he _should _have known, _would_ have known if he had been here.

"Too many memories," she answered shortly, and he caught on. Max's room was in this Institute, and that was enough to make most anyone crack. He guessed that when he'd left, it had been the final thing to push them away. He didn't know how to feel about this.

"They know you're back," she added as she easily dodged his fist. "Or at least, they will. We sent them a fire note through Magnus. Amatis says that they're usually out traveling in the countryside though, so they haven't gotten the note yet. She says she'll give it to them the moment they return." A pause.

"Izzy - "

"We always loved you, you know that?" Her interruption startled him and he looked up, momentarily distracted from the spar. She refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing intensely on her offense. He effortlessly kept up with her, although he could tell that she'd gotten much better. "You'd always viewed yourself as this failure, someone who couldn't be trusted or loved. But we all did anyway. Trust and love you, I mean. And for that year and a half that we were fine in, you loosened up. You seemed to see yourself more positively. And although your head got even fatter because of it - " he gave a small grin at that - "it was a good change. A really good one."

Her words were punctuated with grunts and deep breaths of air, but her fighting had reached a furious peak. Sweat was dripping down both their temples, and Jace felt more droplets running down his back. Old Izzy was nothing compared to this new, matured Izzy, and the old Izzy had been pretty damn good. But then she dropped her fists and just abruptly stopped, staring up at him. "And then you_ left_," she said, her tone wondering. It was like she was still not over that fact, like she still hadn't accepted it. "One day I wake up and wander to the library, fully expecting you to already be up, dressed, and armed with a sarcastic comment about my bedhead. But you weren't there. And you were _always_ in the library before anyone woke up." Her eyes were strangely bright now, and Jace wanted to look away. He didn't, though, knowing that he should hear her out. "So I got a little worried, but I checked the greenhouse next. Of course you weren't there, but I checked. And then I got to the kitchen." She blinked and took a deep breath. "Oh, Jace. It was such a simple note."

"I didn't know what to say," he told her honestly, dreading the moment when Izzy would start to cry. "I didn't think you would've cared about me all that much."

"Not cared?" Isabelle laughed without humor. "Jace, for someone who thinks so fully of himself, you can be really self-deprecating sometimes."

"Self-deprecating?" he raised an eyebrow, his old cocky tone making a tiny comeback. "Been studying the dictionary I bought you for Christmas, now have we?"

She choked out another laugh, this one more genuine, and suddenly she was crying as he hugged her tightly. The familiar scent of vanilla hit his nose and he grinned, noting with pleasure that some things hadn't changed. Isabelle was still Isabelle, despite her changed attitude (and fighting skill), and she was still his sister. They were talking, relating, being _open_.

That gave him some hope.

* * *

**Yes. So now you've gotten another piece of the plot between Clary and Jace. Don't hate on Ryan now, he's actually a good kid. If I could call a way older man a "kid".**

**Izzy had to have her say, and I guess this is the way it played out. Now you also know where Maryse and Robert are, although surprisingly no one asked about them. :O And yes, Izzy and Simon are still together in this. I can dream, all right? I like this pairing very muchly.**

**And as for fellow Magnus Bane fans, don't worry. ;] He's a-comin'.**

**Review? (I've found someone else who ends their ANs this way. It's the first I've seen, so it was pretty cool.)**


	4. Icicles and Tongues

**Update, finally. ;] Sorry guys, I've been rather busy with other fics and school, as well as my personal writing project. I hope this update makes up for it.**

**Slight Infernal Devices reference here-don't worry about it if you haven't read.**

**Yes, I changed "Brian" 's name. Sorry for the confusion: his name is Ryan now. My beta pointed out that Brian was rather American-sounding, so I changed it to Ryan. Why Ryan? Well... you'll see.**

* * *

_Tongues always pressed to your cheeks_  
_While my tongue is on the inside of some other girl's teeth_

_-3OH!3, Don't Trust Me_

* * *

Magnus really didn't know why he threw these parties. They were crowded, messy, loud and a pain to look after. Hell, someone had been turned to a rat four years ago. (Ah yes, the Daywalker. He supposed he should take at least partial blame for the Turn as well, but whatever.) The point was, if these people wanted a party, they could just go to Pandemonium. Screw "private parties" and "socialite invitations". God.

But he had to do something to get Clary and Jace past that awkward phase. He secretly had a soft spot for the fiery redhead Shadowhunter (not like _that_) and wanted to help her out a little. Besides, he still owed her for erasing her memories despite the high pay.

Oh my God, call the media. Magnus Bane was being nice.

Alec slipped out from the shadows and touched Magnus's shoulder lightly. "Where are they?" he whispered, lips barely moving. His eyes scanned the crowd of undulating bodies.

"Not together, and that's what's important," the warlock huffed. Then, more quietly, "Ridiculous. Even Will and Tessa didn't run into all this."

Alec stared at him. "Did your voice just slip into an accent?"

Magnus blinked innocently. "What?"

"I could've sworn..." Alec sighed, then shook his head. "All right, whatever. Where are they?"

"Jace is at the bar." They both mentally added an "of course" to the end of that sentence. "Clary's with her boyfriend at one of the tables."

Alec's eyes widened and Magnus noticed that there were several different shades of blue in his irises. "She brought Ryan?"

"Yup. And don't worry - I don't have a lot of Downworlders here, and none of them brought their, uh, things. I think."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

* * *

It was the same old game for Jace. See Clary, get pissed because you can't have her, and take out your frustrations by flirting and banging another girl. Really, after six years of knowing the redhead, you'd think that Jace would catch a break. But no: for the first six months or so, they'd supposedly been related. Then they'd had a year and a half of happiness.

Then he'd gone off and been an idiot for four years, expecting her to wait around for him.

Yeah, no.

Really, what was it with Clary and brunettes? This Ryan guy was brown-haired, blue-eyed, and obviously quite caring. He wasn't the rash, impolite, devil-may-care kind of person. He was more reserved, careful, deliberate. He was steady.

_Well, obviously, _Jace thought bitterly. _After the rollercoaster ride that was your relationship with her, she'd want to settle down._ God, he was stupid.

They weren't even dancing. Of course not. They were sitting at a booth and talking, hands pressed together and laughs spilling out like a goddamn waterfall. That was all they'd done on the walk to Magnus's loft, too. Ryan had met up with them in front of Central Park and joined their group as they meandered over to the huge apartment, lingering behind them all with Clary as they held hands and quietly whispered. Ryan had told everyone that there would be a snowstorm later in the night and to hurry just in case, but his own speed directly countered his words. It was a stark contrast to how exuberant and loud Clary and Jace had been together, always arguing for one second then laughing during the next, poking fun for a minute then making out for another. It was slower, calmer. It was _different. _

Another difference that time had wrought.

He kind of wondered what would have happened if he'd stayed. Would she have gotten tired of their ups and downs? Would they have stopped laughing and started arguing more and more? Or would they already be in the middle of their own clichéd happy ending?

He caught Magnus and Alec whispering on the peripherals of the room, shooting glances between Clary and Jace as they talked urgently. Isabelle was biting her lip on the dance floor and watching Clary, whereas Simon had just squeezed her shoulder and was now making his way over to the stool next to Jace.

And right now, a heart-to-heart was _not _something Jace needed.

So he slipped off the barstool, spotted a hot brunette chick on the opposite end of the room, and started to walk.

* * *

"Who is that bloke?" Ryan asked Clary, fingers reflexively tightening over her own. Clary took a deep breath and followed his gaze to see Jace on the other side of the room, blonde hair glinting metallically under the flashing lights.

"Oh. Um, he's an old acquaintance. He went on a backpacking trip and was gone for four years." The lie slipped easily from between her teeth and Ryan cocked his head.

"He just left? Without telling anyone?"

Clary shrugged. "Well, he's kind of... unrestrained. He does what he likes, when he likes to."

"He sounds like a twat."

She bit back a laugh. "He kind of is, to be honest."

"So how do you know him?"

"Um." Well, what was she supposed to say? _Oh, well, I kind of stalked him to the back room of a club six years ago because I thought he and his adoptive siblings were going to commit murder, but it turned out that he was saving the world from infestations, one demon at a time. Then we met again, I almost got killed, got sucked into a supernatural world, then had a blossoming chance at romance with the "twat" before we found out that we were siblings. No, don't run away! We turned out not to be! Hey, come back!_

Yeah, no.

"Well," she started out haltingly, "we met up because Izzy was his adoptive sister and she dragged me to a meeting. Things just kind of went from there, but I'm not close to him." The last part wasn't a lie, at least. She was really starting to feel bad about lying to Ryan, but it was slowly becoming a habit. After all, she couldn't tell him about Shadowhunting, and that was a major part of her life. In fact, she had to conceal most things about her earlier life because they'd been too heavily impacted by the Shadowhunting world. He couldn't even meet her parents -

"Oh, God." Ryan's disgusted voice broke her train of thought. "He's one of those types, isn't he? Look over there. Bloody wanker."

Clary was almost scared to look, but forced her head to move anyway. Jace was holding a leggy brunette straight up against the wall, mouth practically ripping her face off already. Her hands were gripping the top of his jeans and she was more than reciprocating as Jace's hands began their familiar route around a girl's body.

"Shit," Clary breathed, quiet so Ryan couldn't hear her. She suddenly stood up and squeezed past him, shooting a forced, apologetic smile over her shoulder before heading toward Magnus's bathroom door. She skirted around everyone she knew, thanking the Angel Raziel for the bathroom vacancy. She slammed the door behind her and locked it, sliding down to cup her head in her hands as she crouched on the cold tiles. The bass line of the music pounded away, increasing the migraine that was threatening to bash her temples in.

Angel, what was he doing? He came back and acted like he wanted her back, like he _expected_ her back. Then, with no moody or temperamental stage in between, he'd gone straight back to his playboy ways as soon as she'd given him the no. Not only did it hurt, it made her doubt everything once again. If he had enough courage, enough emotion, enough _gall_ to just go ahead and use girls again like he'd done before her, how much of a lasting impact had she had on him? Had he even stopped fooling around with girls during their one and a half years of... whatever it was that they'd had? How could be he so...

So heartless?

Someone knocked on the door harshly, the vibrations of the wood searing into her back. She scrambled up and turned the lock back, opening the door to see a stranger doubled over and about to heave. She rushed out of their way and back into the throng of people pressing in at all sides, feeling the claustrophobia well up inside her chest and struggle for air. Throwing a quick, masochistic glance at the still passionately-making-out "couple", she avoided Ryan's searching gaze and threw the front door of the loft open, feeling the cold night air rush at her skin before she stepped out and ran.

* * *

Jace pushed the girl away as soon as he heard the door slam shut behind Clary. Feeling the ice-cold air from outside hit his fevered skin, he started to walk away. The girl (Zillah? Zianna?) didn't chase after him, knowing just as well as he did that it was all an act - maybe she had someone she was trying to show off to as well. He really couldn't summon the energy to care.

It was about to fricking snow, and she'd run out in nothing but her halter top and jeans. What the hell had she been thinking, and why wasn't her boyfriend taking care of her?

Speak of the devil, Ryan himself approached Jace with a wary expression on his face. "Seen Clarissa?"

Jace blinked at the use of her full name. "She left," he said, voice colder than the dark night outside. "Without her jacket, I might add."

Ryan frowned a little. "Why'd she go?"

Jace knew exactly why. "How the hell should I know?"

The other guy's frown deepened. "All right then. If you see her again, tell her I'm waiting at the table." He moved away, returning to the back of the room.

Dick. He didn't even offer to chase her down and return her jacket.

* * *

She was two blocks over by the time he caught up to her. His footsteps were as silent as ever, even the snow underfoot failing to crunch loudly enough to alert her to his presence. Consequently, when he touched her shoulder, she jumped about a foot in the air.

"Way to forget your jacket, idiot." His voice was brusque as he handed the mass of fabric over, soft cotton and silk brushing over her frozen arms and making her sigh in relief. She snatched it away from him, a whirlpool of emotion sucking at her stomach, and slid into the sleeves. She buttoned it up tightly and continued on her way, the wind picking up.

"Clary - " He'd reached out for her arm but instead got her hand. She yanked it away from his touch and scowled back at him.

"Don't follow me, Herondale." She ignored the way his voice had said her name: as if they were still lovers, still friends.

"Lightwood," he corrected easily, eyes glowing a bright gold as they assessed her from head to toe. "I think that there's going to be a storm soon," he said contemplatively, breaking his gaze to look up at the sky. It was a swollen, bloated gray, just about to burst. Visibility was already way down. "I figure I should walk you home. It's a long way to be walking alone, don't you think?"

"No," she replied shortly. "I'm not sixteen anymore."

"Age doesn't matter to the mugger," he chided.

"Look, whether you've accepted it or not, I'm a Shadowhunter now. I think I can take on a few muggers."

"Oh, the confidence of a beginner."

God, he was _infuriating!_

"Come on." He tugged on her elbow and urged her along. As if agreeing with him, the wind started to howl from behind and snow fell, dusting the dirty streets of New York with more melting flakes and black ice. She had no choice but to follow him, fingers clutching at his fleece jacket as she slipped. He instinctively braced her with both his hands, fingers wrapping around her shoulders. She shuddered and stood carefully, continuing on her way.

The snow was falling fast and hard now, building on the already high snowbanks and blurring everything in her sight. The streetlamps had either flickered out or were weakly shining orange through the storm, and winds whipped at her hair and almost lifted her off the sidewalk. Jace pulled her closer to him and made her walk in front of him, blocking the gusts with his back. The ice in her path made her stumble and slip often and she cursed the smooth soles of her Keds.

"Clary, the purpose of walking is to get from Point A to Point B," he whispered into her ear. His breath and his chest were the only warm things in the world. "You falling every five seconds is hindering the process here."

"I'm doing the best I can," she hissed back, leg sprawling out from her torso as she hit yet another patch of ice. "I want my Uggs," she whimpered, keeping her voice low so as not to alert Jace. He heard her anyway and chuckled, tightening his grip on her upper arms.

"Your feet must be freezing." It was his turn to speak quietly, and he did it so well she didn't hear him. Thank the Angel, she didn't notice his concerned tone either. He really needed to get a grip.

They were silent on the rest of the walk back to the Institute, the air between them heavy with flakes of snow and bitter, silent words.

* * *

**Yes, there will be a confrontation later. Please don't hate on Ryan - he has his reasons for not chasing after Clary.**

**"Unconnected Sentences" Teaser:**

Rye-bread.

Brian.

Rissi.

Drew Salinas really needed to stop calling.

What the hell.


	5. Flashes of White and Red

**Phew. Life is seriously kicking my butt these days. Sorry about the late updates - I hope that people are still hanging around and waiting...**

**This chapter really didn't want to come out. There's a lot going on in this story that's behind the scenes still, and I'm trying to orchestrate it correctly. I hope you all understand what's going on despite the confusion...?**

_Chapter Songs _

_Boston - Augustana_

* * *

Church greeted them at the Institute when they walked out of the elevator, meowing before flicking his tail and disappearing. Shivering, Clary led the way to the library where a perpetual fire burned. They silently hung their jackets near the flames and paused a moment before Clary started to head for the door. Jace grabbed her arm and held her for a second, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Running away?"

She scowled, turning away from him immediately. "My clothes are damp, okay? I want to change. What, are you going to stalk me to my room now too?"

"It's not like I haven't seen you without clothes on before," he reminded her, voice low. She couldn't help but gasp at his words - stupid, cocky ass - and whirled around to confront him. But instead of the smirk and raised brows she was expecting, Jace's expression was blank and calm, almost impassive. It was like he was analyzing her and breaking the information down, taking note and biding his time. Uneasiness started to snake into her chest and she took a deep breath, pushing away the unwanted memories of his touch. She tore her eyes away from his, feeling the panic start to rise as the silence grew thicker.

Then her phone rang, cutting through the atmosphere like a knife through butter. Jace blinked and let go of her on his own accord, watching carefully as she dug her phone out of her pocket and pressed the talk button.

"Hello? Oh, Ryan, hi. Yeah, I felt a little sick so I went back home. No, I'm okay."

_"Are you sure? It's snowing like mad outside - "_

"Don't worry about it. I got home safe."

_"I feel awful about not following you to make sure you were all right - I thought you wanted space, Rissi, like before..."_

Jace quirked an eyebrow at the nickname and she felt heat pool in her cheeks. It was a perfectly nice nickname, and he had no reason to be so degrading about it.

"No, it's fine. I'll still see you tomorrow, right?"

_"Surely, provided we're not snowed in, of course."_

"Hopefully not," she said, ever aware of Jace's stare. He was beginning to get impatient, she could tell.

_"Feel better, Rissi. Good night, then."_

"Good night, Ryan. See you tomorrow."

_"See you then."_

She hung up and crossed her arms. "What?"

"Rissi?" he asked her, voice slightly amused. "Really, what's wrong with Clary? It got old?"

The American tilt of Jace's voice, coupled with the all-too-familiar sarcasm laced through it, made for a seriously unwelcome shock to Clary's system after a year of Ryan's soft, English accent and understanding tone. "It's just a new nickname, okay? He uses it when he's worried. I happen to like it."

"Oh, definitely. What's next? Rye-bread instead of Ryan?"

"Just shut up. You have no right to be picking apart my relationship - "

"Tell me, _Rissi_, doesn't Ryan wonder why you never invited him to your "house"? Why you don't have a job, or why you don't go to college? Doesn't he wonder how you and Izzy met, why you're close with Alec, or who I _really_ am? Please tell me he sees these rather obvious holes."

The sick thing was, Jace was hitting all of their issues right on the head. "Ryan understands, all right? He respects my privacy. Although that might be a foreign concept to you, some guys in this world actually know how to act like a gentleman."

"Really? Or are you just lying to the poor guy?" Clary wanted to bolt from the room then, but Jace was slowly advancing and she found herself backing into the side of the fireplace mantel to keep away. "Or even if you aren't, isn't he a little desperate to stick with someone who won't tell him anything?"

"I tell him everything!" Clary shot back, angry. "Everything that he can stand to know, everything that won't knock his world off its axis like you did to mine six and a half years ago!"

"That wasn't my fault! Magnus erased your memories and your mother hid your Sight - I just happened to be there that night! No one asked you to get involved in the hunt anyway!"

"What was I supposed to do, let you three kill a guy I thought to be an innocent bystander?"

Jace pinched the bridge of his nose. "Stop. Just stop. This isn't why we're mad, and you know it."

"I'm mad because you're butting back into my life, after I've _finally_ built a new one for myself!"

"Oh my God, are we really going to play the pity game? Oh, everyone pity Clary Fray, 'cause she has it _so bad._" His eyes were flashing and the sharp corner of the fireplace mantel was digging into her shoulder. "Her horrible boyfriend abandoned her for a few years to hunt down her psychotic brother since he wanted to drive the human race into extinction. And while he was gone for a few years, she moved on and found herself a new mate. Her life must be _so _hard."

She could hear the underlying hurt in his voice and they both needed him to stop. "There are so many things you don't know, Jace - "

"And I'm not the only one!" he shouted, slamming a fist against the wall by her head. Clary's eyes widened and she shrank back, almost frightened by the way the fire flung shadows and illumination across his face. He took a deep breath and withdrew his hand slowly, fingers trailing down the wallpaper. "What am I missing, Clary? What happened?"

"Four years happened," she whispered back, gauging their dangerous proximity. She didn't want to tell him anything, didn't want to open old scars and let the blood flow until it stopped hurting. She preferred to keep the bruises out of sight, hidden so well that even she forgot sometimes. She didn't want to see the white gravestones, smell the sterile air of hospitals and taste her bitter tears all over again.

Jace didn't seem to recognize her pensiveness. He scoffed and leaned in closer, eyes challenging. "I thought I was supposed to be the one with walls up."

"I learned from the best," she shot back, eyes scrunching shut.

"Are you going to run away, too? Remember what happened when I ran? Run, Clary. But know that I'm _right_ behind you."

"I'm not going to encourage a chase, all right?" Her eyes popped open. "I don't want you here, and I don't want you looking for me!"

"Angel." His palms were pressed against the wall next to her head again. "What the hell do you want me to do? I thought you missed me. I thought that was why you were angry with me in the first place!"

"No, I'm angry because you _left without a word_. Do you know how many issues you left behind - "

"Then let them go!" He felt the old angst clawing at his chest again, spewing sticky feelings around and taking over his mouth so that unchecked words flew out. "Run away, Clary, run to_ Luke _and your _mom_ like you did before. Run back to the _mundane_ world and stay with your _parents - "_

_"My mom and Luke are dead!" _she screamed, feeling the raw pain explode in her skull and flood her senses. She turned her face away and felt her shoulders rise and fall too quickly for comfort. Then her shoulders didn't go back up and she couldn't breathe, couldn't take control of her lungs and force air in. She was back in the tight hallway, surrounded by white and the smell of antibiotics, melted snow seeping into her jacket and guilt rolling off her in waves.

"Clary - "

A great gush of air somehow pushed into her lungs and she blindly shoved Jace away, making for the library doors. "Leave me alone, Jace, _please!"_

_[You don't know me, you don't wear my chains]_

_

* * *

_

He liked her because she listened. He liked her because she liked broken men, and he was shattered beyond recognition then. She got a kick out of fixing them up, loved taping them back together until they could pretend they'd never been broken in the first place. He knew that she was using him, and she knew that he was using her too. But strangely enough, both of them were okay with that.

At least, that's what he'd thought when he'd left Venezuela.

But now, his cell phone was ringing off the hook and practically dancing off the bedside table as it vibrated for the sixth time in a row. Despite the late hour (or early, if you thought about it), she just wasn't giving up. His head was full of Clary and questions and _feelings._

He didn't know what had happened to Jocelyn and Luke; didn't know how to deal with Clary; didn't know how to stop hurting the girl he loved so much it scared him.

All he knew was that Drew Salinas really needed to stop calling him.

As the cell phone paused for a few blessed seconds, he swung out of bed and pulled on a black wifebeater and a pair of mesh shorts. The infuriating vibration started up again just as he stepped out of his room, making his way across the hall to Alec's door. He knocked lightly and hoped he was in there instead of bunking at Magnus's. Thank the Angel, Alec opened the door as he blinked sleep out his bright blue eyes.

"Ja - what's wrong?"

"What happened to Jocelyn and Luke?" he asked instead, pushing his way into the room and collapsing onto a chair in front of the desk. Alec swore quietly before shutting the door and flicking on a light, making both of them blink rapidly as their vision adjusted. He leaned against the opposite wall and stared at Jace, hands pressed to his thighs.

"It was a year after you left," he started quietly, looking away. "Clary was still hoping you'd come back, but she was going through some difficult times. She went to visit Luke and Jocelyn after a huge freezing rainstorm, and I think they tried to persuade her to let you go. They didn't feel too... hospitable toward you then. She left angry, and they felt bad or something because they tried to drive over here to talk to her again. But the freezing rain had frozen the roads, and they skidded on a patch of black ice..." Alec swallowed. "Jocelyn died instantly, and they found Luke barely alive. He died as soon as they were separated."

Jace groaned and tugged ferociously at his hair. "Hell. No wonder she's hurting."

Alec fidgeted. "I think you two should have a civil conversation soon. You have a lot to talk about, and she hasn't told you everything yet."

Jace sighed. "The way things are going now, I really doubt we're ever going to be able to talk."

* * *

Simon's fingers were cool as they slipped over Isabelle's spine. She took a deep breath and snuggled closer to him, saying, "I'm so glad the Mark of Cain lets you into the Institute."

"Mmm. We couldn't have these kinds of moments otherwise, huh?" A short silence fell as Izzy twisted around to kiss him fully, both their hands roaming as their eyes fluttered shut.

"I've never had this before," Izzy said thoughtfully. "This kind of _sweet_ night. You're the first guy I've just... slept with. Nothing dirty or R-rated. Just sleep."

"I'm glad I can be first at something," Simon said dryly, giving her another peck on the cheek.

"I like it. The calm feeling, I mean." Then she bit her lip. "Do you think Jace and Clary will be okay? They always used to fool around like this."

His fingers tapped out a lazy beat on her ribcage. "I think that they'll work it out if they try. But I also think that they have a lot to talk about."

Izzy stared into his eyes. "Do you think she'll tell him about...?"

Simon blew out a sigh. "I hope so."

* * *

She reached the little knoll before sunrise, the world gray and dim in the predawn light. She knelt on the frozen ground, jeans immediately soaking through from the snow, and traced the letters carved on the granite. The wind whistled through the leafless tree above her head.

They said that the dead were just sleeping.

Clary wished they'd wake up.

It wasn't fair, how they'd died. They'd only had two and a half years of happiness together before one stupid mistake had ripped their lives apart. If Clary had just sat and listened, hadn't stormed out of the loft in self-righteous anger, had just paused and _waited_, maybe they'd be alive today.

The ironic thing was, they'd been right anyway. Jace hadn't come back for another three years, and three years was definitely too late. He hadn't been in time to see _him_. And the deaths had been what had told her to let Jace go.

"Oh, Mom," Clary whispered, pressing a hand flat against the granite. "I wish you were here. I wish I could talk to you. I wish you could tell me what to do." The familiar aching sting of tears started to rise in her throat and she swallowed, brushing hair away from her face as she turned to the other gravestone. "Luke. I miss you. I want you to come back and hug me and take me out for sweet buns and coffee again." She laughed a little. "I feel like a child, guys. God, I wish I was a child."

The tears were spilling out and dropping into the snow, melting little holes into the drifts and almost freezing over her lips. She bent over in silent pain and tasted salt, letting herself cry as hard as she needed to. The grief was raw again, fresh and new with his return.

"Mom," she cried, "Luke. Oh my God, oh my God..."

The sun broke the horizon and streamed across her shoulders, hitting each crystal of ice and lighting up the world around her beautifully. She would've used ink and paper to create a sketch of the scene.

Instead, she felt hollow inside.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Sir."

"Stricklander! Do you have an update?"

"Yes, Sir. He... doesn't seem to be doing anything. The most action we have seen so far is a demon hunt about four days ago."

"Was he alone?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Does he show the same amount of skill we saw previously?"

"Yes, Sir."

"... All right. Just keep watching. We'll make a move once we're completely sure."

"Yes, Sir. Good day, Sir."

"Yes, yes... have a good morning, Stricklander."

_Click._

* * *

**Whoo! A huge thanks to my beta, NixiexGrey :D She's awesome.**

**Review?**


	6. Pick Up The Pace

**Yeah, so I'm a really bad person. I haven't updated in a loooong while, huh? Sorry about that - I know you're not interested in my excuses.**

* * *

The New York City Institute Shadowhunters (AKA Clary, Isabelle, Alec, and now Jace) had this _thing._ Basically, it was that bitching rights about going on demon fights - and the ensuing chaos it wrecked on schedules - were given up once the peace between infestations hit the week mark. Since it had been a week and three days, no one really complained when the message came through at around midnight. Instead, they all suited up and loaded themselves with weapons, taking a cab to Queens.

"Take Queens Boulevard," Alec instructed the cabbie, slidingonto the vinyl seat and shutting the door behind him. Clary struggled to breathe properly, feeling like her rib cage was folding in on itself as Izzy's elbow jabbed her stomach and Alec's hips poked at hers. Jace smirked back at Isabelle from the passenger seat, exaggerating his extra space up front by stretching and pretending to yawn. She told him to do something anatomically impossible with himself just before the cabbie turned on the radio, drowning out the rest of their words.

About thirty minutes later as the cab started to cruise around Flushing, a flicker of red caught Clary's eye. Turning her head around to keep it in sight, she saw an Oni demon sneak out of an alleyway and survey the deserted street. "Stop!" she said suddenly, breaking the steady stream of music. The cabbie slammed on the brakes, just as startled as the rest of them. Alec threw a few bills over the center console and they all tumbled out. The yellow cab wasted no time in speeding away, turning the corner and zooming out of sight.

"Where - oh." Isabelle turned around to see the rest of the Onis crawling out of the alley and onto the sidewalk in front of a closed Korean deli. The tall, wispy demons stood to their full heights and faced the four Shadowhunters who in turn took out their weapons. Clary didn't bother to light her blade yet, watching Izzy's whip coil gracefully by her side. She chanced a glance behind her at Alec, who was holding his blades confidently. He had a frown on his face, although unconcerned.

"I was hoping to get them somewhere less... conspicuous," he said, nocking an arrow nevertheless. Jace laughed, not without humor, and suddenly flicked a blade straight through the first Oni's heart. It screamed and folded in on itself, spraying ichor everywhere. Clary glanced around nervously, noting that the stores around the street were all closed and they were alone. Clary shook her head - she wasn't in the zone today - and got to work, slashing a random demon across the chest and watching it disintegrate. It was like wisps were flying away into the night air, with red ash slowly burning out and eventually disappearing.

"Ah, frick," Clary muttered, caught off guard when a demon shifted into a human being. He had electric green hair and a flawless complexion, eyes alternating between deep brown and their true red color. In his right hand he held a long, wicked knife.

The demon hurled himself at her, barreling forward and almost crashing into her. She jumped out of the way in time, tripping over cracked pavement and falling on her butt. She scrambled backwards as he advanced, grin pasted onto his face and knife poised to kill. (His expression was kind of like Jace's, but Jace was infinitely more dangerous.) She rolled away and jumped to her feet, whispering "Emmanuel" and watching her blade grow brighter. She flung it at the demon but missed wildly, watching the light sail past his shoulder almost comically. (Jace would be incredibly pissed at her lack of skill. She'd been training for four years, goddammit!) It laughed at her, a horrible grating sound, then took confident steps forward. She fumbled with the daggers hanging from her belt, but her fingers felt slow and clumsy. She actually didn't want to do anything but sleep at this point. She hadn't gotten any down time in over thirty six hours.

"God_damn_, Clary, what the hell are you doing?" whispered a voice in her ear as a glowing blade whipped past her arm and embedded itself into the demon's stomach. Whipping around, she caught Jace's eye. Her conscious came roaring back, making her veins hum with new-found adrenaline.

"I - "

"Save it," he hissed, stalking over to where the demon had disintegrated and plucking his seraph blade from the sidewalk. Clary distractedly caught a flash of gold - Isabelle's whip - from the corner of her eye. "If you want to get killed, fine by me." He swept past her and threw himself into the mess, promptly jumping onto a tall Oni's back.

_Ass_, she thought furiously. So she wasn't in her best shape today. Sue her. It wasn't like she was going to die!

A yell from Alec snapped her attention to his area of the street. Three Onis were bearing down on him, each with at least one weapon clutched in their hands. Wiping sweaty hair away from her face, she bounded to Alec's side.

"Hello, Clary." He greeted her casually, if not a little breathlessly. She gave him a grin and returned the greeting, decapitating a demon with her dagger as she did so. Ichor sprayed everywhere, splattering against her jacket and making her hair sticky. (Suck it, Jace, she could too kill a demon.) Alec made quick work of the remaining two, causing Clary to revel in the fact that he used to not kill demons at all. The grace and _ease_ with which he did his job left no messy ends, no untied strings. It was perfectly executed.

(Fuck you, Jace Wayland-Herondale-Lightwood. She'd take Alec over him any day.)

"Thanks," he told her, looking around the street cautiously. She mimicked him, rather surprised that no one came rushing to the scene of the fight. But that was New York City, she supposed. No one cared as long as it didn't move into their homes. Besides, this was a tiny commercial district. No one was around. She put out her blade quickly though, always careful.

Isabelle was finishing up with one last demon on her end, while Jace took on three with one blade. The Oni disintegrated quickly, no match for the Shadowhunters. It was all in a day's work, really, with the ichor as an added negative. Breathing more heavily than normal, Isabelle caught Clary's gaze. She gave her a nod, wrapping the whip back around her wrist as an innocent bracelet. Jace extinguished his blade and tucked it into his belt sheath, mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"So," he asked nonchalantly, "how are we going to get back to the Institute like this?"

Ah, crap. Ichor was hell for vinyl taxi seats.

* * *

They finally decided to take the subway back. It was just about deserted at this hour anyway, and the few people on it were either too tired or too wrapped up in their own thoughts to notice the four young adults covered in black gunk, sitting in an inconspicuous corner and drawing hastily with a strange crystal object.

Clary drew a careful iratze on Izzy's skin first, healing the nasty gash she'd obtained from one of the demons' knives. Alec was next, the rune stitching together small, but draining injuries scattered everywhere. Then, as the two blood siblings' eyes fluttered shut, she turned warily to Jace.

"Going to let me bleed to death?" he asked her lazily, gaze never wavering from the stele. She stayed silent, ruffled but hesitant. He looked vaguely amused. "I would do it myself, _Rissi_, but my left hand is shredded. Wanna get to work now?"

She bristled at the usage of her nickname - _Ryan's _nickname - but mutely extended a small hand. He placed his wrist into her fingers, looking as cool and collected as ever. Her fingertips started to tremble as the familiar contact spread throughout her nerves, but she managed to swipe an iratze onto his golden skin before dropping his arm like she was burned. He looked more entertained than ever, eyes finally flicking up to meet hers. She looked away immediately, apparently absorbed with drawing her own healing rune.

"Don't you think a thank you is in order?" he asked her softly, glad that Izzy and Alec were asleep. (They were across the aisle, anyway, so they couldn't have heard if they tried.) "I saved your ass out there."

"I could have handled it," she responded stiffly, feeling the corporeal ache of tiredness drag her eyelids down. "You didn't have to intervene."

He scoffed. "Yeah, all right. Sure."

"You really didn't! I've helped myself out of tougher spots before."

"Yeah? Like what?"

She stared at the red graffiti that lined the subway's plastic chairs, unwilling to answer that question honestly. She wasn't ready for that yet.

He scoffed, taking her silence as an inability to think of an example and leaned back into his seat. There was a tense, brief silence before he opened his mouth.

"I don't understand why you won't let me help you," he said, voice softer than before. Clary shot a harried look at the Lightwood siblings, but they were completely out of it. It was uncanny, really.

"I don't need you to," she replied tightly. "I got used to doing things on my own."

* * *

The charred note was resting on the hearth when the four Shadowhunters arrived at the Institute. Church yowled insistently until they followed him to where it was, Alec scooping it up and reading quickly.

"Mom and Dad are coming on the next flight from Switzerland. The Clave refused to grant them a Portal farther than the outskirts of Idris. They'll be here in a week."

Jace's expression hardened. Clary took one glance at his face and knew he was nervous, not cutting himself off. Then she shook her head. It wasn't possible to read someone like that unless you truly loved them. The only person she could read that well was Ryan, and there was no way that Jace was at the same level as her boyfriend.

_Yeah, except for the fact that he was your boyfriend, _a voice reminded her. She sighed and smacked a palm to her forehead discreetly. Izzy gave her a curious glance but she shrugged it off, not willing to explain what even she couldn't figure out.

"We had better get ready for their arrival then," Clary said, just to take her mind off things. "Does the note include their flight information?"

"No, but I'm assuming they'll either call or get here on their own," Alec responded. "I'm guessing it'll be the latter, since they almost never call."

As if scripted, Jace's cell phone started to vibrate just as the words left Alec's mouth. He glanced at the caller I.D. and rolled his eyes, raking back the curls from his face. He took a deep breath and flipped it open.

"Drew?"

"Jace!" The other three Shadowhunters looked up curiously at the lightly accented female voice. Clary felt a pang of old, premature jealousy streak through her chest before she reminded herself of the situation and Ryan. "You finally answered your phone," the woman went on. "Look, I have to come to New York for business, and I know you have friends there. Can you hook me up with someplace to stay? You're probably in New Zealand or somewhere equally obscure by now - "

"Actually, I'm back in the city to stay," he replied, brows furrowing. "I think I could get a friend to take you in. My apartment can't hold more than one person, but my friend's can hold at least three."

"Really? Oh, that'll be amazing. All right, I have to go there in about a week and a half. Can you arrange it by then?"

"Yes."

"Call me?"

Clary noted that Jace looked almost pained, as if the conversation was physically tolling. "I will. Good night, Drew."

"Good night, Jace. Sweet dreams."

As soon as he shut the phone, Izzy pounced. "Who was that, and where are you putting her?"

"Her name is Drew Salinas," he answered slowly. "And I'm going to have her room with Simon."

_"What? _Are you fricking kidding me - "

"Jace, what's wrong?" Alec asked, cutting across Izzy.

Jace took a deep breath, and Clary was sure that he wasn't going to talk. But then he let out the air in one big gush and said, "She's not the type to call me up for a place to stay. She's really independent, and would probably have found her own means. I don't know what's wrong with her, but she's acting weird."

Clary thought she knew what was going on, however. It was a classic case of sample syndrome. Once you had a taste of Jace, you always wanted more.

* * *

**Oh, something's going down. :O Clary's keeping secrets, Robert and Maryse are coming back, and we're going to meet Drew Salinas. Where does Stricklander and his boss factor into this, I wonder?**


	7. The Return

**It's been ages, and life is kicking my ass. I'm sorry guys, I really am. I hope this UD makes up for it. It's short, but I think you'll have a lot to chew over at the end.**

**

* * *

**

The only warning that they had was the cat. Church burst into the library first, finding Clary and Isabelle comfortably reading. He meowed insistently at them, flicking his tail imperiously when they started to follow. Leading them to the elevator, Isabelle saw them first.

"Mom, Dad!" She rushed to their side, giving them huge hugs before taking their bags. Maryse and Robert gave her slightly pained smiles, eyes taking in the familiar scene of the Institute. Seeing Clary standing in the corner, Maryse reached out for her in a silent show of support. Clary hugged the older woman tightly, closing her eyes.

Death and loss had softened the sharp edges of Maryse and Robert Lightwood, making them seem more human and less Shadowhunter than before. They were still quite formidable, but Clary felt better somehow, more welcome in their presence. However, it had taken a horrible price to bring about the results, and that price was apparent every day.

Stepping back, Maryse looked toward the hall. "Where are they?" she asked quietly, Robert placing a hand on her shoulder for comfort. Izzy shifted from one foot to the other, feeling awkward with no answer to offer and memories flooding from every side. They were spared from further silence when Alec strode down the hall, Church at his side. Greetings were exchanged, hugs given, and the old feeling of completeness returned to Clary.

"And of course, no one cares about the plus one," a dry voice said from behind them. Everyone turned to look at Jace, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His expression was guarded.

"Jace..." Robert's voice was half-shock, half-wonder. "So you are back."

He spread his arms wide, standing straighter. "In the flesh."

"Jace." Izzy scowled at him.

Jace opened his mouth. "I don't - "

"Young man," Maryse started, her old edge making a comeback, "if you think that the four years you've added onto your age gives you the right to mouth off to me, you'd better run before I decide to set you straight. Got it?"

There was no response to that. Jace looked rather shocked, not to mention abashed.

Oh, family reunions. There was something to be said about them.

* * *

Clary felt bad about leaving the night that Maryse and Robert had arrived, but they'd shooed her out of the Institute. With things to unpack, items to organize, memories to recall and lives to settle back into, the couple had enough on their hands to not notice an absence. So when the clock struck eight, Clary was gently pushed to the elevator and out the door, the chill of the winter wind searing through her jacket and raising goosebumps. She sighed, smiled a little, then set off down the street, making her way over to a small cafe a few blocks over. When she opened the door, she was met with welcome warmth and the sight of Ryan sitting in a booth with a mug of hot coffee in front of him.

"Hi," she said breathlessly, dropping into her seat.

"Hello," he responded, giving her a brilliant smile. "I've already ordered your hot chocolate for you; it should be out shortly."

"Thanks," she said, returning the smile. "Sorry I'm late, Izzy's parents came back from Europe."

"Ah, finally back, are they?" Ryan asked rhetorically, brows furrowing. "How long has it been?"

"A few years. They checked in every few months, though."

"Personally?"

"Through letters."

"That's... rather impersonal."

"That's the way their family works. Don't worry," she added quickly, seeing his expression. "They love each other very much. They just don't feel the need to be all touchy-feely."

"Well... all right. Alec is an adult, and was when they left, so I suppose it was all right."

"It _was_," Clary said, mild exasperation entering her tone. As a waiter appeared and set her hot chocolate down in front of her, she realized yet again that Ryan had an overprotective side that came out through words, not actions.

_Better than punching everyone that touches you, _whispered a small voice. _Like Jace did when - _

"Uh, so..." Clary spoke up hastily, blocking out that troublesome voice. "How are classes at the university going?"

"Brilliantly. My Economics class is really taking off, and the Business Management sector gets more exciting every day..." Ryan's goal was to work his way to the Chief Financial Officer position of the company he was currently working for, and seeing as he was only a step above internship, he had a ways to go. Clary had faith in him though. She knew what a steady, dependable kind of person he was. If he wanted something, he'd get it. If not soon, then eventually.

_As opposed to being so impatient he dies in line at Starbucks? _the snide little voice asked her. _Because when we look at Jace - _

"Wow, that's interesting," Clary blurted out, doing the best she could at distracting herself. Ryan gave her a funny look.

"Are you all right, Rissi? I think you're kind of out of it."

"What? Me? No, why?"

"Because I was talking about the coffee machine getting stuck at the campus cafe. That's not interesting; in fact, it's rather annoying."

Clary took a sip of her drink, cheeks flushing. "Oops. Sorry."

"No, it's fine. I'm just worried. Are you tired?"

"Not really. I'm fine, really. I was just spacing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Ryan." She rolled her eyes and giggled.

_Well, the man's persistent. Just like Jace when he's faced with something he wants - _

God, it was never going to go away.

"Rissi? Come on, attention back here. Are you sure you don't want to sleep or anything?"

"I really doubt sleep can solve this problem," she grumbled.

"Sorry?"

"Oh, nothing," she said quickly, looking back up into Ryan's confused face. Confusion suited him well, she decided. He was incredibly cute.

"Rissi, if you want to go back home to rest, it's fine with me. I have some classwork I have to catch up on anyway, so..."

"I - no, Ryan..."

"Clarissa."

Clary sighed, knowing the determined tone of voice that he used right then. It meant he was going to hold his ground until she dropped the subject. "Well, I have been feeling a little under the weather," she said slowly. His face looked slightly relieved at that, as if glad that their relationship wasn't splintering apart. No, it was just the flu.

"Okay, let's get you back to your flat. Can you go back yourself, or do I get to see the infamous, mysterious living quarters of Clarissa Fray?"

She winced. Although in jest, that question really hit the nail on the head. "I think I'm fine," she said, hating every moment of the lie. "I'll get there, don't worry about it."

"Rissi, you know I worry."

"Yes, it's your favorite habit." Both of them stood up, Clary standing on her tippy-toes to smooth out the worry lines etched on his forehead. He leaned a little further down and placed a soft kiss on her lips, withdrawing fairly soon. Her cheeks flushed anyway.

"We'll talk tomorrow, if you're well enough to give me a ring." Ryan gave her a small wink.

"I'll keep my cell phone close and call you first thing tomorrow," she promised. "Good night, Ryan."

"Good night, Rissi."

They parted ways, Clary's mind filled with one question and one question only.

Since when did she start comparing Jace and Ryan?

* * *

Robert was rediscovering the library, Alec was out with Magnus, Jace was God-knows-where, Isabelle had just finished talking with Maryse and was now cooking, and Clary was sitting in the greenhouse when Maryse found her. Sitting down next to the younger woman, she was silent and completely calm. Clary started the discussion with a simple, "I went out with Ryan tonight."

Maryse nodded. "Did you have fun?"

"I don't know."

"Why not?"

"Because I thought about Jace most of the time." Maryse Lightwood was one of those people who could call bullshit from miles away, so Clary had learned a long time ago that there was no point in lying or obscuring the truth.

Maryse nodded again. "That's to be expected. He just came back."

"But... I don't want him here," Clary said, voice frustrated. "I just got used to everything, especially him being gone. He can't just walk back into our lives like nothing happened, not after everything that _did_ happen."

The older woman stayed silent, absorbing her words. This was probably why Clary liked their talks so much - Maryse didn't spout out false comfort or talk over her with hopeless advice. She stopped to think about what Clary was saying, and genuinely tried to help. Clary was glad they'd gotten past the awkward stage of their acquaintance.

"I think you're still hurt about what happened after," Maryse said finally, getting straight to the point. "It's understandable, of course, but you must be careful not to hold a grudge."

Clary immediately caught onto what she was trying to say. "I have every right to be hurt!" she cried. "He should have been there for me, for _us, _and he wasn't because he went on some wild chase without offering to take all of us along!"

"And what if he had?" Maryse countered, voice still soothing. "Do you think you could have survived the ordeal in a foreign country, without me or Jocelyn to help you? What about Luke and Robert?"

"Luke and Mom would still be alive though," Clary argued, needing some piece of thought, some_ evidence _to hold onto.

"Clary, there are so many 'what-if's and possibilities that it'd be impossible to factor them all in."

"But - "

"Don't try to lead away from the subject." Maryse's tone sharpened slightly. "You need to be careful about this grudge."

"I can't," Clary admitted. "I just can't let it all go like that."

Maryse's gaze relaxed a little. "I'm not asking you to let it all go. That'd be too hard, too much. I'm just asking you to see past that and move forward with your life, whether it be with Ryan or Jace. They're both good men, you know, although one is more broken than the other."

"I'm so confused," Clary said quietly, burying her face in her arms. "I'm so confused."

"I know. But things have a way of working out. In the meanwhile, you have to learn how to cope. To breathe, to take a step in the right direction. Am I making sense?"

Clary nodded, and a dense silence encompassed them.

"He didn't even get to see him," Clary said suddenly, voice as bitter and soft as the sea. "He doesn't even know he existed."

"There's nothing he could have done," Maryse said softly, rubbing the younger woman's back.

Clary looked up, the weight of a broken world reflected in her eyes. "But still," she whispered. "He was our child. I loved him so much it hurt, ever since I found out about him. And then he died."

* * *

**Ryan will be making more appearances. I need to incorporate him more. And hmm, what about Drew?**

**Review?**


	8. How It Went Down

**As I said in my formspring, this is going to be a flashback chapter. One puzzle piece revealed.**

* * *

Air rattled in her throat as she breathed, staring down at the little pink plus sign on the cardboard stick. This couldn't be happening. She was a Shadowhunter, it was true, but she just wasn't ready for something like this.

Especially since he was gone, and he was the only person who could have gotten her to this point.

* * *

She cried as her mother enveloped her, the familiar smell of paint and turpentine helping to soothe her nerves.

"Oh, baby," her mother whispered, rocking her back and forth. "It's okay. It's okay."

Luke's hand was warm on her shoulder, spilled coffee lying unheeded on the hardwood floor.

* * *

Isabelle freaked.

"Oh my God, Clary, I'll take you to the gynecologist and help make appointments and go shopping for clothes and - _Angel_ that _bastard_ - it's okay, Clary, I promise I'll help and oh my God, how are you _feeling?"_

Clary laughed weakly. "I love you, Izzy."

Simon stood frozen in the doorway.

* * *

Alec grasped her hand tightly, blue eyes understanding and soft. "Don't worry, Clary," he said quietly. "It'll be okay. And..." Alec steeled himself. "if - _when_ he comes back, it'll all be even better. Don't worry about it."

Clary didn't want to think about how small that chance was.

Magnus came to sit on the other side of her, a wave of glitter descending from his vest. "Look, honey, I'm all in favor of this kid thing. But if he calls me uncle even _once_, I'm going to turn him into a fuzzy throw blanket. Got it?"

She didn't know if she was laughing or crying. Probably a bit of both.

* * *

She didn't know that clothes could even be this small. "God, look at the socks," she breathed.

Then she winced.

"Is he kicking?" Jocelyn asked quickly, eyes flitting to her daughter's abdomen. Maryse turned around quickly, concern etched in her face.

"Just a little," Clary said. "It _is_ the second trimester, after all."

"Fuck off," Isabelle muttered to a couple of scandalized women a few racks away. They hurried off, judgmental looks still plastered on their faces.

Clary closed her eyes. _Where are you?_ she thought.

* * *

Stark white and bleached smells were all that she registered as she flew through the hospital's halls, terror racing through her mind and into her veins.

"It's only the sixth month, you can't possibly tell me that she's in labor!" Luke's angry voice echoed in her mind, increasing her headache.

"I'm sorry, sir, but she's undoubtedly contracting. Sir, I must tell you that there's only a small chance of survival for the child - "

* * *

There was blood everywhere - the last time she'd seen so much blood was when _he_ had died on the shores of Lake Lyn, sword sticking grotesquely out of his chest as Valentine's expression twisted into pain and fury -

"Oh God, make it stop, _Angel Raziel_, Mom - "

"Clary, shhh, shhh, it's okay, it's all right - "

"There's something wrong - "

"Come on, Clary, push, just a few more times - "

"There's something _wrong_ here - "

"Oh my God, Izzy, please, please - "

"Doctor! Doctor, there's something not right - "

"Move, everyone move - oh my God."

"Mom, _please!"_

"We can't do anything - no, don't stop Clarissa, keep pushing - Ms. Lightwood, please keep Clarissa awake!"

"Clary, stay with me, come on baby - "

"There's something _wrong - " _

Clary screamed.

* * *

Everyone stood up when the doctor came into the waiting room. Simon could tell that something was wrong already - the man's shoulders were slumped, his glasses hanging on the tip of his nose.

"I'm very sorry," he said at last. "The child died two minutes after birth."

* * *

He was a red mass of skin, with severely under-developed systems and no chance at anything. His life had ended right after it had begun.

Only friends and family were in the room; the nurses and doctor had discreetly left. Clary herself was still on the bed, sweat making her skin crawl and tiredness seeping from every pore.

It was like he was gone again - like he had just left. The one thing that was tied to him so intimately was already gone. Clary had had something inside herself that was a part of him, that resembled him, that was made by him.

And as soon as he had gotten into the real world, he had died. If that wasn't symbolism, she didn't know what was.

"He had had golden eyes," Maryse said quietly.

Clary started to cry.

* * *

**I hope I captured the raw pain. I'm not sure if I did.**

**Review?**


	9. I'm Sorry!

**I'm sorry, guys. I'm not really into this story anymore. To be honest, the excitement left and I really don't feel motivated to write this anymore.**

**I still have the plot all lined out. If you'd like, I'll type up a plot summary and post it, with possible one-shots of certain scenes. **

**Leave a review that says what you'd like.**

**Thanks for everything,**

**KTR14**


	10. Summary

**Thank you for your understanding :] I'm glad there aren't any grudges being held, and that you guys are all up for the summary.**

* * *

Drew moves into Simon's apartment and tries to get closer to Jace. He draws away, unwilling to get close to any girl but Clary, who's still ignoring him. Simon feels uncomfortable with Drew in his apartment and her presence leads to some tension between Isabelle and Simon. Meanwhile, Alec and Magnus are worried about the prospect of forever for Magnus, but eventual death for Alec. Robert and Maryse are trying to cope with Max and their childrens' lives as well.

Stricklander and his boss are still interested in Jace and his abilities. Jace starts to think that someone's tailing him, although he chalks this down to paranoia and sleep deprivation.

Everyone refuses to become intermediaries for Jace and Clary, saying they must work it out themselves. Clary refuses to tell Jace about Nathaniel (their son) but Jace suspects that there's something huge that she's not telling him.

Jace and Ryan get into a verbally violent argument, which they both keep secret from Clary.

Clary and Ryan start growing slowly apart, Ryan focused more on his studies and Clary on her personal life and Shadowhunter duties.

Clary and Jace get into a large fight in which she finally tells him about Nathaniel. She then studiously avoids him. Meanwhile, Isabelle and Simon try to work their relationship around Drew and her increasing pressure in all of their lives. Drew and Clary do not interact. Jace is shocked and angry about Nathaniel, and lashes out at everyone in the Institute for not telling him.

Stricklander finally confronts Jace. Jace is not in the mood to talk and things almost escalate into a fight... but then Drew turns out to be on Stricklander's side. Stricklander and Drew - as well as their boss - want to recruit Jace into a elite order of Shadowhunters. However, this would require him to move to Idris permanently. He is assured time to think about it.

Drew later tells Jace that she's still interested in him, and that if he joins the elite group she'd like to be with him. Jace doesn't know what to think.

There is a period of internal thinking and reflecting for all the characters. Clary feels much better after telling Jace everything. Jace is weighing his options. Isabelle is trying not to be jealous of Drew. Simon is thinking about asking Isabelle to move in. Alec and Magnus are reconcilating themselves to forever, and trying to enjoy the time they have left. Maryse and Robert are healing.

Jace decides to go to Idris to join the elite Shadowhunters. He still does not know if he will start to date Drew. Everyone is upset at this decision, but they understand. However, Clary is more upset than she expected.

Ryan and Clary decide to mutually break up. They are not going down the same paths in their lives and it's best to separate now. Ryan is focused on his studies and is uncomfortable with not knowing more about Clary's personal life. Clary is wrapped up in the Shadow World and unwilling - as well as unable - to explain about her personal life. They part as friends. They are probably not going to see each other again.

Clary is able to sort through her feelings concerning Jace now that Ryan is out of the picture. She slowly comes to realize that she does not want Jace to go to Idris. She does not know anything past this.

When Clary asks him not to go, Jace sees no point and asks her to tell him why he should stay. She cannot give him a coherent answer.

Isabelle does not move into Simon's apartment because she knows that that move is moving too fast for them. They work it out, however, and now that Drew's true purpose is revealed the tension slowly disappears.

Alec and Magnus learn to accept forever.

Maryse and Robert finally find closure.

Jace refuses the elite position.

He and Clary do not have an immediate happy ending. However, they start to reconnect and get closer. They finally talk about everything they've been through.

Jace visits his son's grave.

Clary and Jace have something to look forward to. Even though they're not quite there yet, there's the promise.

* * *

**Possible oneshots concerning this plot. Don't take this off your alerts list yet!**

**Thank you so much for all your support. I love you all.**

**KTR14**


	11. Scene 1, rated T

**It's not really in the summary, but it's to be expected. I mean, come on. They haven't gotten together in _years._**

**So... this is quite nervewracking cause it's, um, hotter than I used to write. I haven't written fluff in a very long time, and "lemonade" = a first. I hope it's okay.**

* * *

He was fuming.

No, not even fuming. The impression of steam pouring out of his ears didn't do enough justice to the wrenching murder call that was currently spewing out from every beat of his heart. He was furious, raging, _livid._ Practically ripping his jacket off, he hurled it against the coat closet door, the fabric too light to give a satisfactory thrown feeling in his arm.

He settled for punching the wall instead.

"Jesus - " The ripple of fast footsteps came from the kitchen and halted at the opposite end of the very narrow foyer. Jace's head whipped up, eyes grazing past her as she hastily avoided eye contact. "Oh."

Ryan's words echoed in his ears. "Where's Alec?" he bit out.

"Away," Clary replied stiffly. "Everyone's gone."

He resisted the urge to swear. His gaze burned through her as she shifted from foot to foot.

"I'm going back to the kitchen," she said finally, making to turn around. Quicker than she could have ever thought possible, he was grabbing her arm, roughly yanking at it so she was forced to face him again. "What?"

"What are you keeping from me?" It came out as more of a demand than a question.

She tried to pull away. "Nothing - Jace, you're not in your right mind - "

"To hell with my right mind. What are you not telling me?"

"Jace, it's not - "

"God." He suddenly let go of her. "The bastard was right. You really _don't_ trust me."

"It's not that, but - wait, who are you talking about?"

He laughed humorlessly. "Your boyfriend. Significant other. Booty call. Angel, Clary, I don't know, your English wench."

She ignored the insults. "Ryan? Why the hell were you talking to Ryan?"

"I don't know, I was in a bar when all of a sudden he marches up to me, acting like he's the shit - "

_"Jace." _

"It's true."

"What did you two say?" Her tone was wary.

"We chatted about the American economy verses the English one, then debated the best course the EU should take on Greece's bankruptcy. Jesus, Clary, what do you think we talked about?"

Every girl was supposed to love having two guys fight for her. She absolutely hated it. "How could you even - God, Jace, if that's not the stupidest reason to get into a fight - "

"Oh no, Brian brought up some very interesting points."

"_Ryan_. And what did he say to you? No, wait, what did you say to _him_?"

"Nothing permanently scarring, don't you worry. And he just pointed out how _open_ and _honest_ we are with each other. Speaking of which, isn't there something you've been keeping from me?" The anger in his voice was building.

"It isn't something I can just slip into everyday conversation - "

He was suddenly grabbing her wrists and slamming her against the nearest wall, eyes blazing only inches in front of her. Despite their proximity, Clary couldn't focus on anything except the irrational fear that was starting to spread through her veins. Jace looked terrifyingly beautiful. "Stop avoiding the question," he growled, words ghosting into her ears.

"I'm not," she said, working to keep her voice firm.

Jace moved even closer, golden hair mixing with her auburn. "Sure about that?"

His knees pinned her legs to the wall, completely forbidding escape. An icy tingling feeling started to pop painfully in her chest.

"Absolutely."

One of his hands crept down to brush against her hipbone. She looked him straight in the eyes, knowing exactly what they both wanted but fearing what would happen if they allowed it. But when a small smirk lifted the corner of his mouth, her attitude came roaring back with a vengeance. He was _not_ going to win any secrets from her.

She lifted her chin defiantly. "I _dare_ you."

His mouth slanted across hers abruptly and she gave a startled cry - this was not what she had meant - but he silenced her immediately by crushing himself to her. She moaned and Jace grabbed her hip, trying to ignore the dirty thoughts that were currently whispering in his mind. Her fists curled into the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders and tugged, forcing one hand to thud against the wall next to her head so he could brace himself. His tongue traced patterns on the roof of her mouth.

His stance widened involuntarily and she freed her legs from his hold. Wrapping them around his waist she slipped her hands inside his shirt. He shuddered and lifted her up higher, granting himself access to her neck. He bit at the sensitive skin just below her chin and she whimpered, nails lightly scratching down his chest.

"Tell me," he breathed.

"No."

"Dammit, Clary - "

She ducked down to press a firm kiss to his lips, tugging on his hair. He hissed and bit at the slope of neck to her shoulder, tongue smoothing over the redness. He lingered there for a while, skin almost sticky from his attentions. her breath was coming in short gasps and she ached to bring him closer, close enough for her to be swallowed up by his proximity. He looked up at her with hooded eyes and she kissed him hard, his tongue immediately demanding access. It swept across her own and she shivered, feeling a deep groan rumble through his chest. His hair was silky in her fingers and she gave it another tug, gasping as his hips pressed against hers in response.

"You know you shouldn't _do_ that to me," he said, voice surprisingly unsteady. She grinned.

"What, this?" She pulled again, loving the tight curls at the nape of his neck. He moaned, long and low, head falling forward so it rested on her shoulder.

She'd long since figured out that weird quirk of his.

His tongue languidly stroked her collarbone, surprising and hot. "Angel, Jace - "

"You have to tell me," he said, fingertips massaging the pliant skin stretched over her hips.

"I... I can't."

"Why not?" He was now peppering small, drawn-out kisses all over her neck and her head fell back, resting against the wall.

"It's not... you don't want to know, Jace."

He stopped and looked up at her, eyes questioning. She unwrapped her legs from his waist, ignoring his frown, and took a deep breath. Her face was flushed.

"It's really not the right time to tell you - "

"Clary. Just say it."

She bit her lip. "Nathaniel," she finally whispered.

His brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"That was his name."

"Whose name?"

There was an extremely long pause as green studied gold. Then -

"The name of our dead son, Jace."


End file.
